Chapter 3

The next day was my birthday. It was also the anniversary of my mother's death.

It was a day I did my best to erase from the calendar, but my father threw a party anyway, right under my nose.

"Everyone, quiet down!"

My father’s voice boomed through the speakers, and the music died.

He held Carla's hand high in the air, a proud, gloating smile I'd never seen on him before. "I'd like to introduce you all to the new matriarch of the Gallo family—my wife, Carla Gallo."

My world went silent.

The guests' whispers crawled into my ears like snakes.

I looked around the house I grew up in. It was completely different.

My mother's favorite paintings were replaced with Carla's tacky self-portraits. The scent of white roses my mother loved was gone, choked out by a thick, cloying perfume.

They were erasing every trace of my mother.

I started to walk forward, to stop this whole farce, but Lucas grabbed my arm. "Bella, don't. Think about the family. Think about the bigger picture."

"The bigger picture?" I scoffed. "My father is marrying his mistress and announcing it on the day my mother died, and you want me to swallow it for the 'bigger picture'? Or do you have your own reasons?"

"I just want you to respect your father's decision," Lucas said, his tone turning weary, like I was being unreasonable. "We're all going to be family soon. This is not the time to be selfish."

Just then, Sofia walked over.

She wore a tight maternity dress, one hand resting proudly on her small baby bump, the other latched onto Lucas's arm like she owned him.

"Brother-in-law, my sister has always been this dramatic. The pregnancy has made her even worse," she said with an innocent smile, but her voice was pure poison. "I'm pregnant too, but I'm happy every day. Maybe it's because my baby's father is actually excited for him to be born."

She was taking a shot at me.

Implying the child in my belly was an unwanted mistake.

But I didn't have time to react to her taunts. My eyes locked onto her neck.

She was wearing a sapphire necklace. It was my mother's, a Gallo family heirloom passed down to the matriarch. My mother gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday, telling me to wear it on my wedding day.

And now it was on the neck of a thief's daughter.

Blood rushed to my head. Something inside me snapped.

"Take it off," I said, my voice shaking with rage.

Sofia feigned surprise, clutching the necklace. "Sister, what are you talking about?"

"I said, give it back!" I took a step closer, my eyes burning into her. "You don't deserve to touch it!"

"Bella, calm down!" Lucas pulled me back, but he shielded Sofia behind him. "It's just a necklace. If you like it, I'll buy you ten more. Don't make a scene."

"I don't want another one," I said, each word clipped and cold. "I want that one. Lucas, make her take it off."

Seeing her advantage, Sofia stepped towards me. "It’s okay," she said loudly for everyone to hear. "If my sister wants it, she can have it."

Then she leaned in and whispered, so only I could hear, "Everything that belonged to your mother is mine now. Including your man."

She said it with a smirk, deliberately pushing her stomach out. Then, as everyone watched in shock, she let out a sharp cry and threw herself backwards.

"Ahh—!"

She hit the floor hard, clutching her stomach in agony.

"My stomach… my baby…"

It happened so fast, everyone assumed I had pushed her.

Lucas lunged to her side, scooping her up as Carla ran over, screaming.

"Bella, why would you do this?" Sofia's tears came on command. She buried her face in Lucas's chest, sobbing. "I know you've always hated me… you and your friends ganged up on me in school… but I never thought you'd go after an unborn child…"

Rewriting history. Just like always.

The "bullying" was nothing more than Sofia getting caught trying to play three different rich kids at once. She got slapped around for it and kicked out of school.

But no one believed me.

Every glare in the room was a knife, stabbing me with disgust, with judgment. They were all enjoying the show.

I looked at Lucas. My last hope.

But his eyes held only disappointment, a cold, condescending judgment.

For the first time, his voice was hard as he gave me an order.

"Bella. Apologize."